


Echoing in the Valley

by saekhwa



Category: Hustle Cat
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Poetry, Non-binary Avery, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 02:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: Weary, Graves tries to clean up the alley.





	Echoing in the Valley

**Author's Note:**

> Having played the game for the umpteenth time, I couldn't help but expand the alley scene during Graves' route. 
> 
> Written for [Poetry Fiction's July prompts challenge](http://poetry-fiction-challenge.tumblr.com/tagged/july-mini-prompts):
> 
> _"Drop by drop rain slaps the banana leaves._  
>  _Praise whoever sketched this desolate scene"_ — Hồ Xuân Hương

The rusted handprint on the window serves as a wave. A menacing hello to which Graves doesn't even need to close his eyes in order to see Nacht's wide, manic smile. He does anyway, holding his hand over the imprint as if his resolve alone will allow him to draw back the threads of his stolen magic. 

There is only decay. Only corruption. Only painful, well-worn memories of Nacht, always Nacht, as if the curse laid this upon Graves, too. 

He swallows and curls his fingers into his palms, turning to follow Nacht's trail. He doesn't have to travel far to find the rest of Nacht's message — malformed piles of rusted objects framed in a mockery of the art that Graves used to create. 

All he wishes for is more _time_. 

Avery's approach embodies its figurative loss, grown all the more stark when they reach for the rusted bike. What Graves sees is both past and present — young witches moving with blind trust, the confusion of first contact transforming into the horror spreading through their bodies. He can still hear Nacht, still feel the warm puff of Nacht's breath against his throat, as he seizes Avery's wrist. 

Rightfully, Avery's pulse jumps, and they stare at Graves with eyes too wide, too frightened. 

"Don't touch it," Graves says. Hardly a source of comfort. 

Especially when Avery stammers, "O-okay. Sorry."

And Graves… holds back a sigh. He knows there's only one person to blame. "Forgive me."

How unexpected then that when he releases Avery's wrist, Avery steps closer and asks, "What's going on, Graves? I mean, what's really going on?"

The curse tightens Graves' throat, leaving him with the sense that he is perpetually choking. He slides his fingers around his own throat, but it echoes too closely to Nacht's hold. He drops his hand. 

Graves wants to lie down with Countess Dracula and recount better stories than what his life has become. The simplicity of it… Avery's offer to speak… 

He nods. "Tonight after work. Stay after we close. I'll tell you what I'm able."

This seems to suffice, because Avery agrees — with some uncertainty — but they agree. 

When Avery leaves, Graves turns back to the bleak reality Nacht has laid before him and the hope that, perhaps, there is something he can do to protect them all. How it would come full circle with as simple a solution as talking.


End file.
